


Z is for Zipper

by Zeplerfer



Series: Alphabet Smut [15]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Clueless boyfriend Alfred, Light BDSM, M/M, Spanking, Thief Arthur, Zippering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeplerfer/pseuds/Zeplerfer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Kirkland—student by day and cat burglar by night—has been hiding his kleptomania from his adoring boyfriend. When Alfred arrives home early and discovers Arthur in his skintight catsuit, will the truth come out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Z is for Zipper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gelatokitty](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Gelatokitty).



> Heads up! This story involves mild pain play. In BDSM terms, a zipper is a string of clothespins held together by a cord. You "unzip" the clothespins one after another in quick succession by tugging on the cord.

There is nothing that Arthur loves more than the sight of an exquisite emerald ring resting in the palm of his hand. He takes one second to admire the gorgeous gem and then slips it into the secret pocket sown in the front of his pants. It might seem like an obvious hiding place, but if there was one thing Arthur has learned from a life of crime, it is that few security guards are willing to spend time examining a slight bulge in a man’s pants. It is the only time he has ever been grateful for homophobia.

Arthur gives the small collection room one last, appraising glance. Decorated in the style of King Louis the XVI, it is gaudy and ostentatious and French. He sticks out his tongue in disgust. Even if he wanted to steal the gilded furniture, it is far too large to carry. And there is no point in stealing the two “Fabergé” eggs—both of them are fakes.

With one minute left to spare before the security system restarts, Arthur ducks out of the window and climbs onto the narrow ledge. Balancing two stories above the ground, he gently closes the window and listens for it to lock back into place. With his tracks covered, Arthur inches along the ledge until he is close enough to leap for a nearby tree branch. He bends his knees and leaps. For a second, he isn’t sure if he will make the jump, but his gloves find a solid grip on the old bark. He waits a moment to make sure that no one has heard the rustling leaves, and then shimmies along the branch and over the wall. He dashes from rose bush to rose bush until he reaches the bicycle he hid at the edge of the neighbor’s garden.

Bursting with energy after his successful heist, Arthur pulls off his ski mask as he peddles along the deserted roads. The breeze tousles his hair. With his tight black pants and dark green top, he hopes that he looks like a well-dressed student heading home from a pub.

The ride is quick and silent. By the time Arthur reaches his apartment, his hair is wild and he is nearly out of breath. He locks the bike to the railing (more than anyone else, he knows that the city has many thieves!) and pads up the stairs. The heist itself is only his first obstacle of the night. His second is making sure that his oblivious boyfriend remains oblivious to his nighttime capers. By day he is Arthur Kirkland, a boring and respectable student. By night… he is Iggy, cat burglar extraordinaire. Arthur glances at his watch and is pleased to see that he still has twenty minutes left before his boyfriend returns from his late shift at McDonald’s.

He unlocks the front door and hurries to the bedroom. He makes it to the closet and lifts up the secret compartment in his box of knitting supplies when the sound of the front door opening makes him freeze. Bloody hell, is that Alfred already?

Arthur shoves the box back into the closet, closes the door, and jumps onto the bed. He just barely manages to strike a seductive pose when Alfred opens the bedroom door. A second later he hears his boyfriend shriek and a cellphone flies at Arthur’s head. He dodges and rolls onto the floor, ending up in a half-crouch behind the bed. “What the hell!” he complains, glaring at Alfred as he glances over the top of the mattress.

The young man blinks in surprise. “Arthur?”

“Who _else_ would I be?”

“Jesus Christ, I thought you were a burglar!” That sentence hits a little too close to home, leaving Arthur silent and flustered as Alfred comes around the bed and helps him to his feet. His boyfriend gapes when he finally gets a good look at Arthur’s skin-tight outfit.

“Do you like it?” Arthur asks seductively. He unzips the front half-way down, exposing his pale, lean chest. “I was hoping to surprise you.”

Alfred grins. “Best. Surprise. Ever,” he agrees as he tackles Arthur to the bed.

There’s not much that can compare with the thrill of light fingers pocketing trinkets and escaping into the dark night, but the way Alfred kisses is very close, leaving Arthur breathless as his heart pumps frantically. Part of him thinks that he needs to give up his life of crime. He’s risking too much each time he steals another gem. But the rest of him loves the thrill too much.

He wraps his legs around Alfred’s hips and pulls him close, nibbling on Alfred’s chapped lips and ghosting his hands along Alfred’s muscular arms. He reaches for Alfred’s red McDonald’s shirt and tugs it off, revealing the lovely expanse of tanned skin underneath.

A second later Alfred is repaying the favor by pulling down the zipper on Arthur’s top. There’s something very sexy about the noise it makes as Alfred slowly reaches Arthur’s bellybutton and then his slim hip bones. Alfred leans forward and kisses his way down Arthur’s chest. Arching into the mattress in sheer pleasure, Arthur thinks nothing of it when Alfred grabs the zipper to Arthur’s pants in his teeth. Getting Arthur out of his tight pants is practically Alfred’s favorite hobby at this point. (“How do you get into those pants?” Alfred had asked admiringly at the bar. “You could start by buying me a drink,” Arthur quipped.)

It takes Arthur a moment or two to realize that something is wrong when Alfred stops tugging on the zipper. Alfred’s hands find the pocket underneath and he frowns in confusion as he pulls out the emerald ring. “Dude. Is this what I think it is?” he asks in surprise.

Arthur blanches and gulps. “I… I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

“Damnit!” Alfred says with a pout. It’s not quite the reaction that Arthur had expected from his hero-worshiping boyfriend. Surely his terrible crimes deserve a stronger curse word. But before he can respond with some sort of explanation, his boyfriend surprises him again. “I wanted to propose first! I mean, I got a ring and everything.”

Torn between relief and shock, Arthur’s heart can’t seem to find the right rhythm, nor his mouth the right words. “You… wanted to propose?”

“Yeah.” Alfred twirls the ring in his hand and sighs. “Yours is way nicer too.”

Well, yes, it’s an expensive French antique rumored to have been a gift to Eleanor of Aquitaine. It fine well better be much nicer than what Alfred can afford on a fast food salary. But Arthur doesn’t let any of those words escape his lips. In fact, he’s not quite sure what to say. How can Alfred want to _marry_ him when he doesn’t even know who Arthur really is? For that matter, does Arthur really want to marry someone who owns dozens of zombie video games?

The answer springs immediately to his lips: “Yes.”

Alfred’s eyes sparkle as he climbs off Arthur, runs over to his dresser, and pulls a box out of the sock drawer. Even though he’s already half-naked, Alfred bends down to one knee for a proper proposal (nevermind that Arthur has already given his answer). He opens the box to reveal a silver ring with a tiny sapphire heart surrounded by what Arthur is pretty sure are cubic zirconia. He’s also certain it’s the most beautiful ring he’s ever seen. He smiles as Alfred slips the ring onto his finger and kisses him.

Breathless and eager, Arthur rolls over and pins Alfred to the bed. He takes his time removing Alfred’s work trousers (two can play at that game, after all) and tosses them to the floor. He shimmies out of his own burglar suit, leaving them both gloriously naked on the bed.

"I was a bad boy at work," Alfred confesses in a throaty, sexy voice. "You should punish me."

"What did you do?" Arthur replies, his cock hardening at the mere thought of Alfred's favorite 'punishment.'

"I stole some fries."

Arthur tsks and grabs a handful of clothespins and a red ribbon from the basket next to the bed. He attaches the first to Alfred's nipple, twisting it slightly as Alfred groans in intense pleasure. The American likes the feeling of white hot fire on his skin and some nights Arthur is more than happy to oblige. He glides his hands down Alfred's perfect abs until he reaches the young man's strong thighs. For now, as part of the 'punishment,' he ignores his lover's hardening cock. Arthur adds a clothespin to a sensitive spot on Alfred's inner thighs and grins as he watches Alfred close his eyes and arch into the sheets. The next three draw husky moans of increasing volume and intensity. The final one earns a raspy plea for release.

"Oh, god. Please, Arthur!"

As much as he loves hearing the desperate demands, Arthur has no intention to give in until Alfred is mindless with frenzied need. He strings the ribbon through holes in the clothespins, enjoying the moans as the slight movement twists the clothespins deeper into Alfred's skin. There is a fine line between pleasure and pain and Arthur is careful to stay on the right side. He twirls the end of the ribbon in his hand and leans in to give Alfred a kiss, nibbling on his lips almost to the point of drawing blood.

"Nnngh," Alfred moans, pulling Arthur flush against the side of his body. He trembles as Arthur gently pulls on the end of the string, making the clothespins bite into Alfred's sensitive inner thigh. His nerves are undoubtedly on fire between each pinch of skin.

"You've been so _bad_ ," Arthur purrs, twirling the ribbon in his hand until Alfred's skin is taut. He hears Alfred gasp softly beneath him and the sound is music to his ears. "What a naughty boy you are."

"Yeah, yeah. Punish me," Alfred pleads as the clothespins pinch his skin. "Harder!"

Arthur tugs on the red ribbon, pulling the string of clothespins off of Alfred in rapid succession. The surge of pleasurable pain makes the young man arch his hips off the bed. Crying out Arthur's name, Alfred cums onto his own chest and collapses back onto the bed in a sweaty, satiated heap. Rolling his head to the side, he gives Arthur a relaxed, happy smile.

"Wow," Alfred says when he can finally put together coherent words. He glances down at the emerald ring on his finger and gives Arthur an even bigger smile.

Arthur feels a sudden pain in his gut. He can't go on pretending to be something he isn't. "You can't wear that ring in public," he admits. "It's stolen."

"Stolen?" Alfred's eyes widen comically, before a look of understanding crosses his face. "Oh, right,  _stolen_. You've been a bad boy too, huh?" His lips curl into a delicious smirk. Before Arthur can explain himself, he finds that he's being rolled onto his stomach. Alfred's hand slaps him on the butt.

After a few more slaps, Arthur decides that his confession can wait until after Alfred is finished with him. He bites into the pillow as another slap sends a wave of fiery pleasure through his body. Already hard from punishing Alfred, Arthur feels ready to cum into the sheets.

"Naughty, naughty," Alfred teases as a slicked finger slides into Arthur and sends him into another paroxysm of bliss. Alfred must sense how close he is because his new fiance is remarkably quick in his preparations.

After that intense foreplay, both are content to return to vanilla sex. Arthur is pleased to discover that engaged sex is no different from regular sex, which means that it’s perfect in every way. The warmth, the intensity, the way that Alfred knows his body so intimately that he moves his hands to the right spots just based on the timbre of Arthur's moans. Showing off the flexibility and lithe strength that make him such an excellent thief, Arthur rolls onto his back and wraps his legs around Alfred's hips. For a blissful moment, they lock gazes, sharing a passionate connection. They come together in the heat of the night in a glorious rhythm of want and need and pure bliss. In the quiet moments after, they lie together entwined in the sheets, basking in the afterglow.

As much as he would like to fall asleep in a post-coital haze, Arthur knows that it's too much of a risk to leave Alfred clueless about the ring and Arthur's nighttime hobby. He's willing to risk the stakes with his own life, but he can't have Alfred dragged into it.

"Love, there's something I need to tell you about the ring," he whispers across the pillow.

"Hmm?" Alfred asks, blinking back sleep.

"It really is stolen."

Alfred sighs. "Sorry, honey, I'm too pooped for another round."

"No!" Arthur rolls his eyes in exasperation, wondering if he needs a neon sign to drive home the message. "It's stolen. I stole it. I'm a cat burglar!"

"So... you wanna roleplay in skintight catsuits?" Alfred asks, looking intrigued and a little more awake.

"No! I like to steal gems from the wealthy!"

"What? That doesn't sound very sexy."

"It's a lot more exhilarating than you would expect," Arthur begins to respond before catching himself. This is supposed to be a confession, not another way to spice up their love life! "That's not the point. The point is that I'm a terrible person and I don't deserve you."

"Holy shit, you're being serious." Alfred stares at Arthur and then in horror down at the ring. For a few moments, Arthur holds his breath. He wonders if hero-worshiping Alfred is going to dump him or turn him into the police. His heart nearly stops beating as Alfred pulls off the ring and places it in the palm of Arthur's hand. "You need to give it back," he says softly.

"You want me to tell them it was me?"

Alfred looks shocked. "Hell no! Sneak it back in!"

"Ah." That sounds more like Arthur's cup of tea. In fact... sneaking the ring back into the mansion will be even more difficult then stealing it in the first place, and Arthur always relishes a challenge. There's only one thing left to figure out. "Are we still engaged?"

Alfred laughs and leans in for a kiss. "I don't need a ring to know I love you."

There's more than just a ring at stake, but lying in bed next to his beloved, Arthur is willing to let the rest of the uncomfortable conversation wait until morning. He's going to have to give up stealing, even though he loves the adrenaline rush and the beautiful gems. As much as he will miss it, he can see lovely jewelry in stores and museums, and it's easy to find an adrenaline rush with a fiance like Alfred. For now, as he listens to Alfred begin to snore, Arthur admires the glint of the sapphire on his finger and decides that he already has the greatest treasure of all.


End file.
